About ten years ago when I was in the fifth grade, I was introduced to Stevie Nestor, a girl whom I thought was both very beautiful and smart, and someone whom I would get along with very much. First, we were heated rivals playing a computer game, then, when that rivalry began to wind down in early-to-mid February (I ended up winning), we went on to become very close friends, one that I thought would last for a lifetime, but instead only lasted for a few short years (the rest of fifth, and all of sixth, seventh, eighth, and the first half of ninth).
Then, about two weeks before we left for winter break, the principal overheard us talking about me wanting to move back to Fort Morgan, or at least start coming to school here again. The day we left for Christmas, my records were transferred back here, and I started back to school here in Fort Morgan in January. I still kept in touch with Stevie (we would call each other every once in a while), but it wasn't the same. Then in late July or early-to-mid August, I moved back here, and it was then that I realized that I would never see or hear from Stevie again.
Then, sadly, about a year later, I was filling out a job application, when I got word from another kid I went to school with that Stevie had been killed in a car accident returning home from a rodeo. The driver was drunk and had fallen asleep behind the wheel, spinning and hitting the guardrail, before coming into the path of an oncoming semi tractor trailer and being hit head-on. The car hit the guardrail on the other side of the road, and Stevie was ejected from the car. She died the next morning at the hospital. When I found out, I was shocked and devastated. I finished filling out my application, handed it to the kid who told me what happened, then left. My emotions were doing fine until I got home that afternoon, then I sat down and all I could do was cry.
Absolutely nothing or no person could keep me from crying for the rest of the afternoon or again later that evening at the visitation and casket viewing at the funeral home. I managed to keep myself calm and tried unsuccessfully to come to terms with what had happened, and asked GOD to carry me through what was going on; but HE told me that from the time I had found out what happened (all the tears I shed while trying to cope with Stevie's death, during the subsequent funeral, and when I went to go hug my mom shortly there after) that HE had been watching over me, and that Stevie would continue to watch over me as time went on. The following school year as a junior, I ended up on the honor roll (the first time that had ever happened), and this past spring, I graduated from high school. In three days, I will be starting my second semester of college. Well that's my story; like I said, it's sad, but it's true.
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